


A Date More Blond Than Blind

by IlanaNight



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Blind Date, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 18:52:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4636362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IlanaNight/pseuds/IlanaNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dipper's blind date that Mabel set up for him really doesn't pan out... but someone else is there to save the evening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Date More Blond Than Blind

**Author's Note:**

> done as a prompt request and also just something I've wanted to do for a while, plus I was too sick to work on my multichapter works oops

 

Dipper was more than a little anxious as he brushed his hair over his birthmark, fidgeting with his tie for the fifth time in front of the mirror. He’d changed his outfit four times, each time told by Mabel that ‘it wasn’t quite him’ or ‘it was _too_ him’. At this point, he was running out of time _and_ clothing and he sincerely hoped this would be the last change.

 

Not for the first time that day, Dipper was beginning to regret letting Mabel set up this date.

 

Stepping out of the room, Dipper put his hands out, one to either side, and turned in a slow circle in the doorway, letting Mabel appraise him from every angle, “Just so you know, these are _literally_ the last formal clothes I own, so I hope this outfit is-”

 

“It’s _perfect!”_ His sister’s voice could easily be described as a squeal as she ran up to him, poking at his side and fixing his tie before nodding, “You don’t look half bad when you clean up, Dip’n’Dot. Your date’s gonna _love_ it, I’m sure!”

 

Nervously, Dipper put his hands in his pockets and shrugged, biting his lip, “If you say so, sis. Can you at least tell me what this guy looks like so I know who I’m looking for? I mean, so I don’t make an even bigger fool of myself?”

 

“Oh, right! How could I forget that?” Mabel pulled out her phone, scrolling through pictures before holding the screen up to Dipper’s face, showing him a boy with black hair, tips dyed the same shade of blue as his eyes, “His name is Blake, the reservation’s under his name and he’ll be meeting you at 6:30 on the dot.”

 

Looking at the boy on the phone, Dipper sighted and fidgeted with his hair one last time before checking his watch, “Shit, I gotta go. Don’t want to be late, he might leave and then I’ll be left sitting there, people will laugh at me.”

 

“Dip’n’Dot, you’ve got half an hour, the restaurants ten minutes away. You’re fine. Now go get him, bro-bro!” And before he could begin to protest or talk himself down, Mabel had pushed him out the door, audibly bolting it behind him.

 

With a sigh, Dipper set out for the restaurant, worrying his lip with anxiety.

 

Blind dates weren’t supposed to be this terrifying, were they?

 

Dipper purposefully took longer pauses at the streets he had to cross, not wanting to be too early and seem overeager, but even doing that, he arrived at 6:15, stepping in to the restaurant. It wasn’t too fancy, no black tie affair, but it was nicer than what he was used to, and he was glad he’d put a bit of effort into fixing his hair.

 

Walking up to the desk, he gave the hostess a nervous smile, “Uh, reservation for two under Blake? I’m a little early but I’m uh… meeting my date here.”

 

She checked the book before flashing him a brighter smile, grabbing a pair of menus, “I see your reservation here, sir. Your date hasn’t checked in yet, but when he does I’ll walk him right here, I promise. And don’t look so nervous, really.”

 

A short laugh escaped Dipper as he sat down on one side of the table, running a hand through his hair again, “I got that advice from my sister already, she set this whole thing up. I’m just… new at this whole dating thing.”

 

The hostess chuckled,patting his arm on the way back to her desk, “Everything will turn out, darling. It always does.”

 

As he waited and checked his watch almost every minute, Dipper learnt that being early for a date was _infinitely_ worse than being late. Waiters kept walking past him, looking at the empty seat across from him and asking for his order, though he politely waved them away each time. It would be rude to order anything before Blake got here, aside from the glass of water that had been set before him without asking.

 

He was thankful for the water, though, it helped his mouth from drying out due to nervousness, and gave him something to do with his hands, tracing designs in the condensation.

 

Fifteen painstaking minutes later, 6:30 had come and gone, and Dipper’s already present anxiety began to mount. He began to whisper to himself, rationalising the situation to prevent an anxiety attack.

 

“He’s running late, everyone runs late. Maybe he drove and needs to find a parking spot. Or maybe he forgot something at home and had to turn around. He doesn’t have my number so he can’t call me to let me know he’ll be late. He’s gonna run in here and apologise for being late and we’ll laugh it off because I was really early, it balances out.”

 

The monologuing did help him, though he could feel the judging looks of the waiters who walked past him, despite their being paid not to make a comment. The hostess took a family past him to their table and gave him a small smile, patting his shoulder, “He’ll be here, sweetie, I’m sure. Everyone’s late sometimes, right? I bet he’s just as nervous as you.”

 

Dipper nodded, flashing her a grateful smile, “Thanks. Just… if he’s freaking out when he comes in, tell him it’s no worries, alright? I don’t want anyone getting anxious over this, one of us freaking out is enough.”

 

“Alright, sweetie, will do. I’ll keep a look out for your boy.” And with that, she was gone, leaving Dipper to stare into his water and convince himself of the dozen or more reasons why Blake could be late. Life was complicated, everyone was late sometimes.

 

Dipper made an effort not to look at his watch, just sipping his water as casually as possible. Every time his water reached half, a waiter appeared seemingly out of nowhere to fill it for him and ask if he was _sure_ he didn’t want to order an appetiser to eat while he waited for the other person. And each time, Dipper politely declined, though he was getting more and more embarrassed with each turn.

 

By the fourth time around, Dipper couldn’t take it anymore and snuck a look at his watch. 7:15. Blake was forty-five minutes late, and Dipper was running out of functional excuses.

 

“M-maybe his car broke down. Yeah. And he had to call the insurance company and call a cab. That… that’s plausible. Or maybe a family emergency came up and he didn’t have time to call the restaurant and cancel….”

 

But Mabel knew this guy, right? So he would have texted or called her about the change of plans, wouldn’t he have? And then Mabel would have called him and they could have rescheduled or something. And Dipper wouldn’t be sitting alone with a glass of water at a table set for two.

 

When he reached for the glass again, his hand was shaking, and Dipper could feel the tears burning at the corners of his eyes. His throat was clenched with a mixture of disappointment and anger as he tried his hardest not to cry.

 

It was really hard now not to think he’d been stood up, and even though this was just a blind date, it hurt more than anything. Even a person who hadn’t met him yet didn’t want to date him.

 

Despite himself, Dipper felt a tear drip down his cheek and fall onto the table in front of him, hands clenched into fists as his nails bit into the skin.

 

The sensation of being abandoned at the table added a depressive tone to the anxiety that already plagued him, and he was certain now that the waiters were all laughing at him out of sight, and that the hostess had begun to pity him, and god if that wasn’t the worst feeling on earth, Dipper didn’t know what was.

 

“I’m so sorry I’m late, can you possibly forgive me?” An unfamiliar voice interrupted Dipper’s downward spiral and he looked up in surprise, amazed that Blake had actually showed up.

 

...Only to find out that he hadn’t.

 

A blond man Dipper had never seen in life was standing there with a smile on his face before he slid into the seat opposite him, speaking in a softer voice, “Let’s just order and forget about him, alright?”

 

To say Dipper was confused would be more than an understatement, but this was better than being left alone to cry at his table until the staff asked him to leave, so he tried to pull himself together and opened his menu, “What sounds good to you? I’ve never… never been here before. I was… kinda hoping for recommendations…”

 

“Hmmm,” the other man looked curious as he opened the menu, reading over it swiftly before reaching over to point at Dipper’s menu, _“I’m_ gonna go with the salmon steak, I can’t eat fish at home without Lacie- that’s my cat- storming the kitchen, so I eat it at restaurants whenever possible.”

 

Dipper couldn’t help but snort at that despite himself, shaking his head, “Your cat runs your life, does she? Sounds like my sister’s girlfriend, that girl’s cat is more of a diva than she is, and I didn’t think that was possible… But I suppose I’ll take your suggestion and do the same, I haven’t had salmon in a while.”

 

A laugh escaped the man opposite him and Dipper found it was contagious, chuckling along with the blond, “Hey, you try dealing with an unhappy cat sometime. I’d give up fish before getting clawed in the face anyday, don’t want to ruin perfection.” The last statement was given with a mockingly vain expression, hand placed under his chin as he looked off to the side, and Dipper couldn’t help but burst out into laughter, earning a smirk from the blond across from him.

 

“Yeah, sure, whatever ‘Mr. Perfect’. If your face is that great, a couple of scratches shouldn’t do too much damage,” Dipper’s comment was made with a hint of a smirk, especially when the man in question made sure to gasp and react with just the right amount of indignation.

 

“How dare you insinuate that I could ever be anything less than beautiful? I have to maintain my perfection to earn a place opposite someone like you,” and in an instant, Dipper went from smirking amusedly to an embarrassed flush, looking off to the side as his cheeks began to burn. Looking back at the other man didn’t help, as he was leaning forward, head in the palm of his hand as he watched Dipper with a smile.

 

For the first time, Dipper noticed that the man opposite him only had one eye, the other covered by a black silk eyepatch reminiscent of pirate movies, and that his eye was a greenish hazel so bright it could only be described as gold. Dipper had never seen eyes that colour before, it was really quite pretty.

 

Just as Dipper regained his voice and opened his mouth to reply, a waiter interrupted them, “Are you two gentlemen ready to order?”

 

Grinning, the blond opposite him handed the menu back to the waiter, “Yes, I’ll have the salmon steak and a bottle of your best oaked chardonnay for the table.” He looked over at Dipper with a smile as the brunet returned the menu as well, with a bit less confidence.

 

“In terms of entree, I’ll have the same. Salmon.”

 

“Two salmon steaks and a bottle of chardonnay, I’ll have the wine right out for you.”

 

And with that the waiter was off, Dipper sighing into his hand.

 

“What’s wrong, curly-cue? I thought I was brightening your day,” the blond sounded genuinely concerned, though he smiled at the end of it, a teasing tone in the second comment.

 

Dipper snorted, shaking his head, “Oh, you are. I just think that’s the same waiter who’s shot me dirty looks for the past hour while I waited for my date that never showed. I think he was hoping I’d wait here until closing so he could kick me out.”

 

The brunet watched as the gold eye narrowed in anger and the blond turned around to look to where the waiter had gone, _“Well,_ then, _someone’s_ only getting fifteen percent tonight for their tip,” there was clear disgust in the blond’s voice as he made a face before turning back to Dipper, “But really, it’s that asshole who’s missing out.”

 

“You don’t have to be so… I dunno… angry about it. You didn’t know him or anything, maybe he just had his reasons for not showing up. _I_ wouldn’t show up, if I knew I was the one waiting for me,” Dipper frowned and looked away, a bit of his dark mood returning from where it had been banished by the other man’s bright personality.

 

Though Dipper couldn’t see it, the blond’s nearly omnipresent smile fell from his face, replaced by a look of genuine concern. Thin fingers reached across the table to take hold of Dipper’s chin, softly tugging the brunet to face him, “Those sort of words shouldn’t be coming from your lips, curly-cue. You’re worth more than that. I’ve only known you for half an hour and I can tell you that I’d be hard pressed to find someone better to spend my evening with. Whoever left you sitting alone at this table must be having a dull night in comparison.”

 

Once again, that bright flush was called to Dipper’s cheeks at the compliments. This man barely knew him and was already being kinder than almost anyone he’d ever known. Some part of Dipper’s mind argued that was the _reason_ this man was being so kind, he didn’t know Dipper well enough to dislike him.

 

As if sensing the dark turn of Dipper’s thoughts, the blond frowned deeper, patting the brunet’s cheek to try to get Dipper to properly meet his eyes, “I’m being serious. You should at least look at me when I’m singing your praises, sleepless beauty.”

 

The new name confused him enough to get him to look at the other man properly, head tilted to the side, “‘Sleepless beauty’? I mean, I knew you were a bit odd when you started talking, Captain Eyepatch, but now you’ve got me really lost.”

 

In explanation, the blond’s fingers traced up to tap right under Dipper’s eyes, “No need to be _rude,_ darling, I was just commenting on your eyes. You don’t sleep well, or haven’t lately at least, but that doesn’t detract from your natural good looks.” His face took on that false haughty look again as he brushed his hair from his face, fully exposing the eyepatch, “And if you _really_ think I look like a Captain, I’d be _flattered_ to have you in my quarters for dinner.”

 

The brunet was surprised that the blond had noticed that detail, but he supposed he hadn’t exactly made an effort to conceal the shadows under his eyes. It was the latter comment, though, that had Dipper nearly choking on the sip of water he’d taken, covering his mouth with a hand and pulling away from the blond’s fingers, “W-what?”

 

That musical laugh spilled forth from the other man’s lips again as the blond leant back, letting his hand fall to the table, though he was still watching Dipper intently, “Don’t jump on that offer too quickly now, who knows what sort of a Captain I might be? Perhaps I’m going to take you and keep you where no one else can ever see your smile…. or maybe my cat will just really take a liking to you and mewl when you’re not around.” The weight of the statements was lifted by the end of his sentence as he laughed, and Dipper joined him with the simple absurdity of it all.

 

Who _was_ this man?

 

Before Dipper had a chance to put voice to the question, or any number of the others that came to mind, a soft throat clearing beside them drew the pair’s attention. The waiter had returned with the wine and food, a slightly nervous look on his face, “I do apologise for the wait, gentlemen. I had to search the cellars for the particular wine you requested, and by the time I found it I presumed you’d rather just have it with your meal.”

 

“Presumptions generally don’t get you far in life, but it’s fine. Chardonnay is best paired with salmon, after all, so your mistake isn’t entirely disastrous. I would ask first, next time, though. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten, and that wouldn’t be a good review, now would it?” The blond’s voice was smooth and polite to match the small smirk on his face, but the cold look in his eye belied his true feelings and the waiter was visibly intimidated.

 

“O-of course sir, I’m terribly sorry. P-please enjoy your meal.” And as soon as the plates were in front of them, the waiter was gone, swift steps taking him away.

 

The blond turned back to Dipper, cool smile falling in favour of a conspiratorial smirk and before he knew it, they were both consumed by laughter, giddy at the past exchange.

 

Reaching for the wine, the other man pulled the cork free with the supplied bottle opener, taking hold of Dipper’s wine glass in the other hand and pouring a fair amount into the brunet’s before matching it in his own and raising his glass, “To a night much improved, for the both of us.”

 

Dipper blinked in surprise for a moment before picking up his glass and holding it up in turn, “To… unexpected encounters, and unplanned blind dates.”

 

And with that, the blond grinned before clinking their glasses together and taking a sip, humming at the flavour.

 

“I might just forgive the waiter his lengthly expedition, this is _very_ good chardonnay. But he’s still losing out for being rude to you.”

 

Dipper couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips at that as he went to take a sip himself, enjoying the smooth flavour. The flush on his cheeks was, at this point, becoming permanent, but less and less dismissive statements were rising to mind. He was starting to accept that whoever this man was, he seemed to genuinely be enjoying his time here.

 

The first real thing Dipper learnt about the man was that he was utterly consumed by his food, or maybe that was just because he’d gone so long without eating salmon. The blond was careful with his cutlery and placed the first bite in his mouth like he was swallowing gold. The moment his mouth closed, the other man’s eye closed and he hummed low in his throat, a smile on his face.

 

For some reason, the combination of expression and sound had the flush on Dipper’s cheeks deepening, a burning sensation at the tips of his ears as he looked away, clearing the sudden dryness in his throat and taking another sip of wine before cutting into his own salmon.

 

It was quite good, but he kept finding himself distracted by the noises of pleasure the blond was making, eyes only opening to cut the fish and place it in his mouth. Dipper was almost certain it was illegal and indecent to look that attractive while eating, especially if there was someone else at the table.

 

The rest of the meal passed in similar fashion, it seemed the blond wasn’t much of one for talking while eating, though he did ask several times if Dipper was enjoying his meal, if his recommendations and choices were good, and Dipper was quick to reassure him that everything was perfect. More than perfect, considering how the evening had started. And the way the blond’s eye had lit up at hearing that wiped any thought of his planned date out of his mind.

 

Whoever Blake was, he couldn’t _possibly_ look so good when happy.

 

The bottle of wine was split between them, the blond drinking a tad more than Dipper, swirling it in his glass before sipping it once the meal was over, “I’m glad they have this here, it really did complete the evening. I was worried they’d bring something subpar and you’d leave me for my poor choice of wine,” the blond’s expression was one of mock terror, a hand over his heart before he let it slip, smirking over at Dipper.

 

“I’d never leave for something like that… I’m not nearly knowledgeable enough about wine to know if you’d made a bad choice, I don’t think. But the one you picked was… really good. Really smooth,” And it had succeeded in loosening his tongue, at least a bit, along with chasing the leftover chill from his abandonment at the table from his veins, replacing it with a more confident fire, “Almost as smooth as you, that is.”

 

The statement, easily his most forward, earnt him a grin from the blond who was leaning forward again, nearly close enough to touch Dipper’s nose with his own, “I reserve my talents for those who deserve them best, curly-cue, and you make quick work of anyone else who could hope to qualify.”

 

With the help of the wine, the compliment had Dipper laughing, face surely a dark shade of red as he looked up from the table, brown eyes meeting gold, “I’m glad, I wouldn’t want to have to compete.”

 

Laughing again, thin fingers reached up to trail across Dipper’s cheek, more a caress than it had been earlier in the evening as the blond shook his head, “It wouldn’t be a competition. It would be a slaughter.”

 

Another clear of the throat interrupted them, and this time the blond looked truly annoyed for an instant before his polite smile rose into place again, “Ah, yes, the bill. Just leave it there, would you?”

 

The waiter was only happy to set it down and turn tail, but the moment had been broken and the blond leant back again with a sigh, taking his wallet out of an inside jacket pocket and opening the check, looking down at the receipt before counting out bills, “I don’t feel like asking for change, so he’ll be getting _slightly_ more than fifteen percent, but only just.”

 

Reaching for his own wallet, Dipper put a hand out, “You don’t need to pay for all of that, at least let me pay for my own. It’s not like you planned for this or anything, I don’t expect you to pay…”

 

Holding the check back out of Dipper’s reach, the blond shook his head, “Nonsense. This is but a small fee to pay for the hours I have had the pleasure of spending in your company.”

 

Setting the check down on the table, the blond rose fluidly from his seat, grabbing his jacket and slipping it on before offering Dipper his arm, “Now, may I have the pleasure of walking you out?”

 

Dipper made an effort to protest again before the blond rose and he sighed, standing as well and taking the offered arm with a smile. He couldn’t tell when they were sitting, but the blond was a good six inches shorter than him, and it seemed the blond was quick to focus on that.

 

If the dilation of his pupil meant anything, he didn’t dislike it either.

 

The blond whistled, looking Dipper up and down before grinning, “Y’know, you’re real tall, Pine Tree. Now I’m _certain_ that other boy’s missing out… Doesn’t even get to _dream_ of climbing you.” The blond’s laugh rang out between them as Dipper sputtered, holding on to his arm as they walked.

 

The red colour stained his cheeks all the way out of the restaurant as the blond tipped his head to the hostess who patted Dipper’s shoulder again on the way out, winking and whispering a soft “Nice catch” as they headed for the door.

 

Once they were outside, the blond’s hand was suddenly reaching for his pocket, slipping the phone out of it and typing quickly before returning it with a grin.

 

“I certainly hope you’ll give me a call sometime. I might die of oxygen deprivation if you don’t, Pine Tree.”

 

“Dipper. My name’s Dipper… So you… can… call me that, you know.” And despite the nervous state the blond’s statements had put him in, a smile touched his lips as he looked down at his phone, the number typed out there, but no name in the contact.

 

The blond leant up onto his tiptoes to whisper in Dipper’s ear, breath tickling the skin, “Duly noted, Pine Tree, but I think I like my name for you, if you’ll let me keep it. Something tells me you’ll be living up to it someday.”

 

Caught up in an instant of impulse, Dipper grabbed the blond’s hand just as he was pulling away, leaning down to press a soft, quick kiss to his lips, “Maybe I will be, but I want a name to call you when I do, blondie.”

 

The blond was dazed for a moment before that grin reappeared and he leant up, stealing one more kiss before pulling away, “It’s Bill. Bill Cipher, if you want it in full. And I’ll be waiting for that text, Pine Tree.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> commentary from phi and kelsey who watched me write this:  
> (Kelsey) bill: [knows someone for half an hour] [rubs his hand all over their face]  
> (Phi) the gay is strong in this one


End file.
